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Dei-»ich « Mal sind ssxzkxxkaigupskujgwkky m ji«-: ziiimstz or« Mkka crmtx · foL.-xxx1x—No- 13. LITOIJL BILD- -(·;I»0NN—. THURSDAY. JULY ;6,. 1863. «. ) ,--, L R — - » .-. Lsp» wxstomix dro. um The Litchüeld Enqnitkr ·« Published every Thursday morning,by JAMES HUMPHREY, JR., on the third floor of the Enquirer Building, LITCHFIELD, CONN. TERMS SUBSCRIPTION PBR ASKUJf. Tillage subscribers (by carrier) and single mail subscribers, In Advance, $1,76 Subscribers off carrier’s route, and mail subscribers, in bundlos, In Advance, 1 JO fllngle copies, 4 cents. Jgr Postage Free within this County. advbutjsino ; Fourteen lines or less—1, or 8 weeks, $1,00 Each week thereafter, 20 Probate and other legal notices,at usual rates. ' Yearly advertisements at the following Tates : One column $75 ; one-half column $37 ; one third colqmn $25 ; one-fourth column $18.' Business Notices not exceeding half a square, $8 per annum. Obituary Notices and Poetry, three cents a line BOO^ AND JOB PRINTING, Pit all descriptions, neatly and promptly done. BUSINESS DIRECTORY George M. Vi ooclruff, A TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW and Commissioner of Deeds for the State ff New York. Litchfield, Conn. £. W. Seymour, 4 TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW £|L Litchfield. Conn. George A. HIckox, A TTORNEY AT LAW. OFFICE IN EAST Street, directly opposite the Congrega tional Church, Litchfield, Conn. G. H. Hollister, 4 TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW ^4 Litehfield, Conn. Office in the Seymour, Building (up stairs,) South Street. 62 ^CHARLES KIRCHBERGER, Boot and Shoe Maker. BOOTS & SHOES made in the best mannefl and at the shortest notice. Men’s, Women’s and Children’s Boots,Shoes Slippers, Gaiters and Brogans. ffii“aive him a call, and try them on. Litohlield, July 20th, 1861.tf-j8 Mansion House, 8PENCER,PROPBIETOB,LITCHFIELD 3 • Conn. 82. Wm.H. Brain an, DEALER IN FOREIGN and STAPLE Dry Geods, Qroeeries, Crockery,Glass Ware and Yankee Nations, No. 6 West Street, 1st d*er west of the Court House,Litchfield,Conn. Bishop & Sedgwick, OHALERSin DRY GOODS,READY MADE Clothing, Boots and Shoes, Hardware, grookery, Groceries,Sto.j&OjWest Street,Litch field, Gena. 0. B. BISHOP. !• > 8BDGWICK. I 48-l.y David C. Buckley, Dealer in household furniture of all kinds and prices, Chairs, Tables, Rn onus,Bedsteads and Coffins. Also Picture Frames. Toilet Stands and Sofas made and sold with neatness, elegance and dispatch. Warehouse. West St.. Litchfield.Conn. Iv39 ' HHNTAL NOTICE, «lI ww TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS ($26) flSjCash, will, for the next six mouts. • W-tTCCP pay for a full Set of Upper Teeth, ou 18 Carat Gold, and warranted to fit, and made better than any made for the same price jn Hartford, as I donrt as yet, for the want of business, whip the Cat to get work. I will be found at the old Stand whese I have been for the past five years, over the Post Of fice, South-Street, Litchfield. Thaakful for the liberal patronage I have received for years past, I hope, by closest ap plication to my own business, to merit and re ceive a continuance of the same. E. CRQS3MAN. Litohlield, Jan. 1st, 1862. tf-87 £. 8. Stoddard, SHARON, ATTORNEY and Counsellor 'at Law, and , Agent for the collection of Soldiers’Rojin ty. Back and Pensions. Sharon. Oct. 2d. 1862. tf-26 CbM, Hotchkiss & Son, WOLGOTTVILLE, CONN., PRACTICAL ARCHITECTS AND BUILD ERS, Manufacturer* of Sash,Doors,Blinds, Mouldings, Ac., and Dealers in Lumber of all kinds. «gr Sawing and Planing done at short notice. March 4.1861. tf-46 prer jhdd ffe P*—wring, softening, and renewing the PfW?j*nce°‘ Harness, Carriage tops, «c. to order all kind* of doable and sin .vr_Tr5elf °.r snperior style and woikman - Pl of the best material. 3m9 m TTni»^M COTHRE1V, rafeSSSSB6-1*®.3* Woodbury, Her. 87,1868. gg-yi Christian Reinhart. W4TOH-MARKR, *» tf4 LnoBxuuk, Conn. ~ Notice. ~~~ -—You eat) get your . and SRoes mended and as new, pt C. KIBCHBEBOER’S. H. B,—lakker Mss put on LaatRsr^Bwts National Song. FROM THE DANISH OF XWALD. King Christian stood beside the mast, Smoke mixt with flame, Hung o’er his guns, that rattled fast Against the Gothmen, as they pass’d - Then suns each hostile sail and mast In smoke and flame. “ Fly !!’ said the foe: “ fly ! all that can, Nor wage, with Denmark's Christian, The dread, unequal game. I Niels Juul look’d out, and loudly cried, “Quick! now’s the time:” He hoisted up his banner wide, And fore and aft his foemen plied. 4nd loud above the battle oried, “ Quick! now's the time.” “ Fly I” said the foe, “’t is Fortune’s rule, To deck the head of Denmark’s Juul With Glory’s wreath sublime.” Onoe, Baltic, when the musket’s knell Rang through the sky, Down to thy bosom heroes fell And gasp’d amid the stormy swell; While from the shore a piercing yell Rang through the sky! “ God aids me,” cried our Tordenskiold; “ Proud foes, ye are but vainly bold ; Strike, strike, to me, or fly!” Thou Danish path to fame and might, Dark-rolling wave. Receive a friend who holds as light The perils of the stormy fight; Who braves, like thee, the tempest’s might ; Dark rolling wave, 0 swiftly bear my bark along, Till, crown’d with conquest, lull’d with song, I reach my bourne—the grove. Barrow Romantic Ballads. A Hundred Years Ago. Where are the birds that sang A hundred years ago ? The flowers that all in beauty sprang A hundred years ago ? The lips that smiled, The eyes that wild In flashes shone Soft eyes upon— Where, 0 where are lips and eyes, The maiden’s smile, the lover’s sighs, That were so long ago ? Who peopled all the city’s streets A hundred years ago ? Who filled the church with faces meek, A hundred years ago 1 The sneering tale Qf sister frai), The plot that work’d Another’s hurt— Where, 0 where are plots and sneers, The poor man’s hopes, the rich man’s fears, That were se long ago T Where are the graves where dead men slept A hundred years ago ? Who, whilst living, oft-times wept, A liundled years ago ?— By other men They knew not then Their lands are tilled, Their homes are filled— Yet Naturo then was just as gay, And bright the sun shone as to-day, A hundred years ago ? Wishing. A NURSERY SONG. Bing, tiug | I wish I were a primrose— A bright, yellow primrose, bloqming in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm tree for our king! Nay, stay! I wish I were an elm tree— A great lofty elm tree, with green leaves gay The wind would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, And birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing 1 Oh, ho! I wish I were a robin— A robin or a little wren, everywhere to go, Through forest, field, or garden. And ask no leave or pardon, Till winter comes, with icy thumbs, To ruffle up our wing! Well, tell! where should I fly to l* Where to go to sleep in the dark wood or dell ? Before a day was over, Home must come the rover, For mother’s kiss, sweeter this Than any other thing. —Ailing ham. Kingdom Coming. A NEW NEGRO MELODY, Say darkey, hab yer seen the masea, Wid de mustash on his face, Go ’long de road some time dis mornin’ Like he gwine to leab de place t He seen a smoke’ way up de ribber, Where de Linkum gunboats lay ; He took his hat an’ left berry suddeq, An’ I speo he’s run away. CHORDS. De massa run! ha! ha! De darkey stay .' ho I ho! It mus’ be now’d kingdom ownin' An’ de year of jubilo! He six foot one way, tree foot tudder, An' he weigh tree hundred pound. His coat so big he couldn’t pay de tailor An’ it wont go half way round. He drills so much dey call him Cap’n An’ he get so drefful tanned, 1 speo he try an’ fool dem Yankees, For to tink he’s contraband. Chorus—De massa run, Ac. De darkeys feel so lonesome libing In de long house on de lawn, Dey move dar tings to massa parlor For to keep it while he’s gone, Dar’s wine an’ cider in de kitchen, An’ de darkeys dey’U had some; I suppose de’ll all be cornQseated When de Linkum sogers come. Chorus—De massa run, Ac. De oberseer he make us trouble, An’ he drive us round a spell; We look hint up in de smoke-house cellar Wid <le key trown in de well. De whip is lost, de han ’cuff broken, But de massa’ll hab his pay, He’s ole enough, big enough, ought to know better, Dan to went an’ run away. Chorus—De massa run, Ac. * The following delightful Uttle translation is from Setnaniego, a writer of f|bles THE SCRUPULOUS OATS. “Two eats, old Tortoise-backapd Kate, fmoe from its spit a capon ate. *»*•> ThfL Wwt hide or ours, themselTea, however, clean, 1*1 JV *“WU behind a scroll, Thw^VH£™- Quito precise/ ‘8lr. I trow. -Miscetl·ang, • John Clark, and his Fortune. “. Never mind the house, John; we’ve got one of our own,” whispered John Clark’s wife. She was a bright little thing, only twenty years old j and how brightly she shone!—a star aipid so sombre a company. “ But what in the world has he left me ?” mpttered John Clark. I believe he hated me —I believe they all hate me 1” “• Hush, dear!” said bis wife. “ I bequeath to John Clark, my dearly be loved nephew,” read the grim 'attorney, “ as a reward for his firmness in resisting temptatiou during the last two years, and his determina tion to improve in all acceptable things, my one-horse chaise, which has stood in my barn mpre than twenty-five years, requesting that he will repair it in a! suitable manner.” That was all! Some of the people who were1 present, tittered, and all seemed to enjoy the confusion of the young man. His eyes flashed fire, be trembled excessively; poor little Jenny fairly cried. “To think,” she said to herself, “how hard he has tried to be good, and that is all he thought of it." “ Wish yon joy,” said a red-headed youth, with a broad grin, as he came out of the room. _ John spring up to collar the fellow, bqt a lily-white hand laij on his arm restrained him “ L«t them triumph, John; it won’t hurt you.” said Jenny, with her sunny smile— “ pray don’t nqtice it for my sake.” “ Served him right for marrying that ignor ant goose of a Jenny Brazier,” said Susan Spriggs—the niece of the old man just dead, and to whom he had left a good deal of his money. “ I suppose he speculated a good Jeal on the old man’s generosity.” To which she added in a whisper that only her own heart heard—“ He might have had me; he had a chance ; and I loved him better than any one else—better than that pretty simpleton, Jen ny Blazier.” “ Now wo shall see how deep his goodness is,” said a maiden aunt. M He became very pious just because he expected a fortune from my poor brother; but we shall see how much of a change there is in John Clark. He al ways was an imp of wickedness.” “ Well, I think John Clark will have to be contented with his little cottage,” said the fath er qf Susan Spriggs, to good old Joe Hemp. ‘‘ Weil, I think he is content; if he ain’t he ought to be, with that little jewel of a wife,” was Joe’s reply. “ Pshaw ! you are all crazy about that gal.” Said Spriggs. “ Why, she ain’t to b* Compared to my Susan. Susan plays on the forty piano like sixty, and manages a house first rate. . “ Bless yon, neighbor Spriggs, I’d rather have that innocent, blooming face to smile on me when I wake tup mornings, than all the forty piano gals.” “I’d like to know what yon mean ?” exclaim ed Mr. Spriggs, firing up. “ Just what^ I say,”^replied good old Joe coolly. ** Well, that John Clark wifi die on the gal lows, yet, mark my words,” said Spriggs, spite “ That John Clark will make one of our best men yet,” replied Joe. “ Doubt it,” said Spriggs. “Yes, may be you do,” said Joe;.“and that’s a prettv way to build up a young fellow isu’t it, when ho is trying bis best? No, John Clark won t be a good man if you can help jt. People that cry mad dog are plaguey willing to stone the animal while be’s running, and if lie ain't mad they're sure to drive him so. Why don’t you step up to him and say—‘John, I’m glad you’re going right now, and' Tve got faith in you: and if you want any help come to me and I’ll assist you.’ That’s the way to do the business, Mr. Spriggs.” “ Well, 1 hope you'll do it, that’s all,” repli all, and Pm bound to do so if I have a chance. Fact is, he’s {got such a smart little wife that he dop’t really need any help.” “No, ’tisa pity then that brother Jacob left him that one horse chaise.” “ Ypu needn’t laugh at that; old Jacob nev er did anything without a meaning to it. That old chaise may help him to be great yet.— Fact is, I thick myself if Jacob had left him niouey it might have been .the ruin of him.— Less things than a one horse chaise have made a man’s fortune. “ Well, I’m glad you think so much of him ; I don’t,” said Spriggs. “ No,” muttered Joe. us hU neighbor turned away “ but if he’d married your raw boned darter that plays on the forty pianner, he’d been all right.” A one borse chaise,” said Spriggs, laughing, —“ what a fortune !” And go it went from mouth to month. None of the relatives—some of them aireadv rich— had offered the poorest man among them (the owner of the quo horse chaise,) any of the be queathment left to bin) or her, btat they had father rejoiced at his disappointment. The truth is, everybody bad prophesied that John Clark, a poor motherless boy, would come to ruin, and they wanted the prophecy to be a true one, He had, in youth, been wild and wayward, ancj somewhat profligate in the early years of his manhood ; bat - his old ancle had encouraged him to reform—held ont hopes to which he had hitherto been a strauger; and the love of the sweet young Jenny Brassier com pleted, as it seemed his reformation. Jenny never appeared so lovely as she did on that unfortunate day of the reading of the will after they had returned to the poor little house that was Jenny's own. “ No matter, John,” she said cheprfuijy, “yon will rise in spite of them. I wouidu t let them think that I was in the least discoura ged; that would please them too well. We are doing fine now) and you know, if they cut the railroad through onr little bit of land the money will set ns up quite comfortably. ' Isn’t onr home a happy oufe if it is small ? and oh 1 John by-and by.” An eloquent blush—a glance toward her work basket, ont of which peeped the most delicate needle work, told the story—that ever new stojy of innocence, bennty and helpless ness. ■ For one, John Clark stopped the gossip’s month. _ |f8 held his head np inanfoily—work ed steadily at his trade, and every step seemed a sure advance and an upward one. Baby wasjnst six months old when the rail way company paid into John Clark’s hand a ?8fr handsome sum for the privilege of catting a railway through his little field. s'*A handsome baby, a beautiful and indnstri ou wife, and a good round snm from the rail way company,” thought John with honest ex ult' »tion; “ well this is living.” . “ ^ .rising frorq her work, “ look there !” " He did, and saw the one-horse ehaise drag ged by a stalwart laborer. “ Master says how the old bar > is to he palled down, so he so t you the shay’ ’ said the la borer. “ Thank him for nothing,” said John bitter ly ; but a glance at his wile removed the evil spirit, and a batter one smiled ont of his own eyes. * “ John, yqn can spare a little money to have the old chaise done up, can’t von ? You ought to according to th« will.said"Jenny.’’ u The old trash !” muttered John. “ But you could at least sell it for what the repairs wo«ld cost,” said Jenny, and bless me I’d keep it too. You’ve got a gooif horse, and can have the old chaise made quite stylish for baby and me to ride in,” “ Well, I’ll send over to Hosier's tomorrow and see what helll do for it,” said John. “ Look here! Mr. Hosmer wants you to come over, to his shop,” shouted the wheelwright's apprentice on the following day, at the top of his lungs- ‘‘ Old Joe Hemp’s there an’ says he’s right down glfcd. Its hundreds and hun dreds and hun—” " Stop boy—what does he mean Jenny?” cried John, putting the baby in the cradle, face downwards. “ My patience, John ! just look at that child —precious darling 1 I’m sure I don’t know, John. I’d go over and see,” said Jenny. ‘‘Taint any fun, I tell you,” said the boy, while John hurried an his coat an<i hat; My gracions -—you’ll say it ain’t fan when you come to see all them gold things, and the pa pers.1’ This added wings to John’s feet, and in a moment he stood breathless in the wheel wright’s shop. “ Wish you joy, my (ins feller,” cried honest Joe Hemp. “ Look here 1 what’d you take for that old chaise ! I’ll give you four hundred,’’ “Four hundred?” repeated John Clark Hgjtoak “ Yea jnstlook at it! You’re a rich nan, sir and I’m glad of it. Yon deserve to be,” said the wheelwright, shaking John’s hand heartily. What do you suppose was the consternation, delight, gratitude—the wild, wild joy that fill e<? his heart, when he fonnd the old chaise lined with gold and bank notes! I mean the oushion the linings, and every place where they could be placed without danger or injury. Poor John—or rather rich Jehu—his head Was turned. It required all the balance of Jen ny’s nice equipoise of character to keep its ex static brain from spinning like a humming top. Imagine if yon can, dear the peculiar feel ings of those kind friends who bad prophesied that John Clark would come to grief. At first, old Joe Hemp proposed tq take the old chaise just as it was—linings stripped, bits ot cloth hanging—and proclaim with a trumpet the good tidings to the whole village, taking espe cial pains to stop before the house of Mr. Spriggs, and blowing loud enough to drown all the forty pianos in the universe, but that was voted down by John’s kind little wife. “ La! they’ll all know of it soon enongh 1" she said, kissing the baby ; “ I wouldn’t hurt their feelings.” They did know of it; and a few years after wards they all agreed that John Clark had real ly turned out a good man. So much for the old one-horse chaise. How the Mississippi Whits Trash Swap Wives.—Two of those semi-savages had re solved to remove to the West in hope of bet tering their copditjon. One wished to remove to Arkansas, the other to Texas. The wife of the former wished to go to Texas, the latter to Arkansas. 1 ho husbands were desjrops of gratifying theif spouses, bat could devise no plan that, seemed likely to prove satisfactory, till one day when hunting, finding game rath er scarce, they sat down upon a log, when the following dialogue took place : Kit, I’m sort a pestered about Dilsie. She swears to Rackensack she’ll go, and no whay else. I oilers had a hankerin’ arter Tex as. Plague take Rackensack, I say 1 Ef a man war thar, the ager and the airthqnakes ed shake him ont on it quicker en nothin.’ ” 11 When a woman’s set on gwine any-whar, they're gwine. It’s jes no use to talk. I’ve coaxed Minnie mpre’n liffle to go along with me to Arkansas, and the more I coax the more she won’t go." “ Well, Kit, ’sposen we swap women." “Well, Sam, what tradell ye gin.” “ Oh 1 a gentleman’s trade of course 1” “ Shacks, Sam ! ’sposen I had a young filly, and yon an old mar, ye wouldn’t swap at an even trade, would ye ?” “ No j it ’ud be too bard. I tell you what 111 do, Kit. Here’s a shot gun that’s wuth ten dollars, ef it’s wnth a red. I’ll give it and that ar b’ar skin hangin' on the side of my shanty, to boot, and say it’s a trade." “ Nuff sed, ef the women’s agreed. Home they went, and stated the case to the women, who, after due deliberation, acceded to the proposition, having also made a satis factory arrangement about the children, and they all went on their way rejoicing on their respective destinations in that “ America’s heaven of eternal rest, Found a little further West.” A Fair Offset.—A good story 13 told of a showman, who carried about on exhibition an enormous bear. In a certain town in Vei ■pont, where brnin wps attracting crowds, dwelt a farmer and his wife, and an interest ing and multitudinous family of twenty chil dren. The pater familias was very desirous of gratifying the commendable cariosity of his offspring; bat the price of admission was ope shilling, and that iriultiyilied by the number of his olive plants was too much for his ex chequer. He therefore approached the show man, and alter some parley concluded a bar gain, by which the latter agreed to drjve into the farmer’s tack yard with bruin’s cage, and give a private exhibition to the entire family for one 'dollar. This was done, to the great deljght of the old folks and the children, when tile former proffered the compensatory dollar to the obliging sbowpian. “ Oh 1 no!” said the latter. “ I can’t take any tiling; it ie no more • sight for your family to pee my bear, tljan for my bear tp see your family.” — " I A lazy boy makes a lazy mu, just as sure as a crooked sapling makes a crooked tree. Whp ever yet sayr a boy grew op in idleness, that did not » ■l»ift|eps vagabond when he became* m*o, spies* he had a fortune left him to keep up appearances ? Hie grppt pus* of thieve*, paupers, and criminals tax* comp to what tbpy an by being broaght up in idfo nero. Those who eonstitnte the business part of the community—those who make oar grei t and usefpl mpn—were taught to be industri ous. Rallopuing. There hare been many happy specimens of slang literature of late, but the following, ‘‘ time and place considered,” is certainly tbe most felicitous. It is going the rounds of tbe press, as an original account by Professor Ris ley, tbe well known accomplished posture mas ter, furnished to an English paper, of his ro cept ascapt ip the Nassau Balloon with Mr. Green. There were a couple of cars attached to the balloon, eight passengers occupying the first, and two in the lower one. Amidst my com panion? was my protege, the Young Hernan dez, and a couple of ladies. No sooner had I vaulted into the car than I felt as if already in I some new element, and unable tp keep my position, I squatted like a sailor on a crosstree upon the hoop that unites the lashings of the car, and in that elevated position had an op portunity 0 f telegraphing tokens of good will with all my friends. I cap only liken my feel ipgs at the moment to those I used tp experi. ence ip my hobbledehoyish days when I left the university at vacation for bpme, and I have a smart calculation that the machine mast have been inflated for the occasion with oxy gen that had effervesced from a tun of cham pagne. A fair compagnon du voyage asked me what I would take for supper in my eleva ted lodging, and I answered, “ A boiled squab and a brandy smash 1" “ Boom !-” went the signal gun for starting'as I spoke, and the stays were cast off. 1 leaped to my feet upon my perch, and saw every bat in the gardens waving. Off went my old beav pr, and I ascended with the lightest heart I pver felt in my life. Mr. Ferrars, the worship ful secretary of the gardens, wag as much ex cited as myself, and leaped to the opposite side of the hoop. His enthusiasm kept pace with my own, aud each of ns rigged our roarers, as we were about to jein a jubilee of the gods. We went ahead as if impatient to singe our pates against the sun, or as if old mother Earth was playing at foot-ball, and wished to try her strength on the Nassau balloon. Up we went walking in the upper regions like an oppossum up a gum-tree, while the cheers of our friends and the plash qf the band beneath produced a volume of sound not uulike the --thunders of Niagara. Talk of sensations! I felt as if my soul had sloped slick from its clay, and was going a holiday making with my ! heart in its hand. A young gentleman in the car thought it as i nice as a swing at a country fair. ‘ More jike a jaunt to Paradise,' said one of the ladieg. • \ery likely,’ quoth the gentleman,« for we are hovering over one of its rivers.’ JIow can that be V said I. ‘Yonder stream is the Thames.’ ‘Very well,’ said my young friend; ‘and ain’t that identical with the river ‘ Pison ?’ I should have gone down speechless but for a glass of the immortal sherry of my friend Green. It was a drop out of the same bot: tie that he broached for the ladies on his last ascept, after tilting their protectors on the parapet of a house that hadn’t the manners to step aside when it found itself in the way of the balloon. We now began to clear the gardens, flying pbove the very birds, who piped a farewell, like so many Jenny Linds. It was np—up— up—soar—soar—till the pleasure grounds we had quitted appeared like the garden plot in front of a Camberwell cottage. The Thames twined over its shallows like a silver eel in a sand basket. Houses became birdcages, oaks dwindled info cabbages, men became specks, women dew drops, and I began to think that the genus homo was in the habit of thinking a little too much of itself. To be serious, when I saw the great globe swinging at my feet, and the mighty metropolis of the earth looking like a village down-east at the foot of a range of hills, it struck me as a thorough-going eternal truth, that it mattered little whether the An des or the Grampian Hills were the chief scen ic features of a nation ; as it was only neces sary to fly a little higher than a kite to reduce the mightiest mountain in the world tp a mere mole-bill. We now neared a bank of clouds, and I saw what I never thought of seeing as long as I lived—the moon beneath my feet. She was jpst topping thp horizon, and we were at least a mile above the highest point of the surface. A bank of clouds surged beneath us ; and, catching sunlight on one side, and moonlight on the other, gave a notion of a sea with waves washing silver from the east, and gold from the west. I thought what a panorama the scene would ipakp : and, as we floated past a vista in the clouds, I thought also what an extensive bowliDg alley the divinites of heathen mythology might have constructed there; playing with thunderbolts for balls, apd using lightning instead of gas to illumi' nate the place, ^pt as we continued to mount, my terrestrial imaginings gave way to tdftas of (Mother kind. I wag moving through that which forms tire prinpiplep of both lifp and death—of that which nourishes and which decays—that which wafts the pleasure-boat to its IdeetinatioD, while purt bring an eleptric force sufficient to shatter our entire planet into figments. Here ye were piereiug the elements of destruction, with ftp other intima tion of their presence thpn the zephyr tha t ®*ftDe4 our forehead#. Little Hermtftdep was as delighted as I was, and made ue ail smile by exclaiming, “If this be the pleasure of riding in the sir, I don’t wonder at Phaeton borrowing his father’s hor ses to take a gallop over clouds.” A merrier, happier party never congregated at the banquets of royalty. We were many of us strangers to eaeh other, and yet we fra ternized without high treason or revolution, in the most amiable spirit imaginable. Why was this? Our lives hung on the chance of a moment, and the best thing that we could do while in the enjoyment of vitality and health! was to gild the pill of existence as brightly as possible. Had I read the Bible from Gene sis to Revel* tions, I could not have learned a better lesson ; national animosities and human prejudices subsided before it. I felt that if the great family of man would but fancy itself in the car of a balloon, and make the best of matters, as we did, all would go sliek and straight: at the moment I arrived at that con. elusion, I resolved to preach the doctrine, and said, “ Now, Mr. Green, I want to go mission erizing : put me down if you please.” We landed at Sydenham—landed in safety; and having made our acknowledgments to those who crowded to our assistance on reach ing the terra firma, we returned to the gar dens, where a spirit of the .kindest welcome displayed itself in an outburst of those huzzas which Britishers turn to the two fold purpose of welcoming their best friends, and dismaying theirjbes. Re-Union in Heaven.—How short is the earthly hist ory of a family ! A few years, and those who are embraced in the family circle will be scattered. The children, now the ob jects of the most tender solicitude, will have grown np and come forth to their respective stations in the world. A few more years and children and parents will have passed from this earthly stage. Their names will be no longer heard in their present dwelling. Their domestic loves and anxieties, happiness and sorrows, will be sold and forgotten history. Every heart in which it is written will be mouldering in the cold grave. And is this all ? Is this the whole satisfac tion which is provided for some of the strong est feelin gs of your hearts? How can such transitory beings, with whom our connection is so brief, engage all the love we can feel ? Why should not oar feelings towards them be as feeble and unsatisfactory as they? But blessed be God, this is not all. Of this He has given us perfect assurance in the Gospel of His Son. Though to the unenlightened nature the ties of domestic love seem scattered into dust, the spiritual eye of faith perceives that they have been loosened on earth only to be resumed un der far happier circumstances in the region of everlasting love and bliss. Little Ones Hear.—Parents and other persons, though having at heart the good of children, are very apt to be heedless of what they say in the presence of the yonng ones, whose minds and hearts catch the hue of ev ery sentipient expressed. They talk on and the child is seemingly well pleased in its play, but words and statements then made, come np days after when they have forgotten the conversation, wonderfully fresh from the child’s lips. Its mind had been revolving .what it heard for good or evil. Boys grow old too fast by hearing men talk among themselves A writer says : “ If we stopped to think how every word spoken in the presence of a child, affects its future for good or evil, we would be more considerate in onr speech. It is aston ishing how for days, children will ponder over a word or sentence, which no one supposed they had ever heard, at some particular mo ment use it themselves with horrifying effect. How an impatient, petulant word shocks us, coming second hand from those innocent lips 1 Then, alas ! we see and deplore its real de. lormity, and realize how potent is our influ ence over these observant iunocents, not only at all times, but at every moment of time In which they are in onr presence. Ocb Religious Department.—Deacon M. was an honest old codger; a kind neighbor. 8pd a good Christian, believing in the Presby terian creed to the fullest extent; but, lncka day 1 the deacon would ocasionally get exceed ingly “ mellow,” and almost every Sunday at dinner, he would indulge in his favorite cider brandy to such an extent that it was with diffi culty he reached his pew, in the broad aisle, near the pulpit, and between the minister’s and the village squire's. One Sunday morning the parson told his floek that he should preach a sermon touching many glaring sins so conspic uous among them ; and that he hoped they would listen attentively, and not flinch if he happened to be severe. The afternoon came, and the house was full. Everybody turned out to hear their neighbors ‘‘dressed down"’ by the minister, who, after well opening his ser mon, commenced upon the transgressors in a lond yoipe, with the question, “ Where is the drunkard ?” A solemn pause succeeded the enquiry; when up rose Deacon M., his face glowing from draughts of his favorite drink, and steadying himself as well as he could by the pew rail, looked up to the parson and re plied, in a piping and trembling voice, “ Here I am.” Of course a consternation among the congregation was the result of the honest dea con’s response; however the parson went on witli his remarks qs he had written them, commenting severely upon the drqnkard, and closed by warning him to forsake at once such evil habits if he would seek salvation and flee the coming wrath. The deacon then made a bow and seated himself again. “ And now,” asked the preacher in his loudest tones, “ where ts the hypocrite f" A pause, but no one re sponded. Eyes were turned upon this and . i. l,nMinilB^sa»esa& that man ; but the most glances seemed dire#, ted to the squire’s pew, and indeed the penoo seemed to squint hard in that direction, ^e Deacod saw where the shaft was simed, or where it should be a^ed, and rising once more, leaned over his pew rail to the squire, whom he tapped on the shoulder, and thus j addressed. Come, squire, why don't you get up-, 1 did, when he called oj» me. For the Enqoiree. The Ship Canal. The Ship Qanal Convention which *u con vened at Chicago, Jane 2nd wae an oeceaion of great interest, Seme sixteen or seventeen States were represented by delegation*[more or IMS numerous. The Convention embraced on the list of ita members many men distinguished for talent; and high position. The Hon. H. Hamblin, Vice President of the United States presided as Presidents— Vice Presidents, Secretaries and Committees were appointed, one of each from tits spverqj states represented. Connecticut was represented by. four dele gates. The action of the Convention was per fectly harmonious. A Committee of one from a State was appointed on resolutions: Alj resolutions before being acted on had to re ceive the approbation of this Committee of which the Hon. Mr. Buggies of N. Y. was Chairmaq. There was an expectation op the part of the members from the North West that it was the duty of the Committee to locate thq proposed Ship Canal and designate its diman-, tions, which view was not generally entertain ed. It was finally agreed that the pnrpoae amj duty of the Convention was tq awaken the pub lic mind to the object and to nige upon Con gress the speedy adoption of measures for its accomplishment. It is urged upon the country as a great pm tionul work. While it is considered as essen tial to meet the increasing demand of thq Commerce between the East and the West, it is deemed vastly important as a mean; of Na tional defense. Our present treaty with Great Britain par; mits ns to keep only one small armed steamer on each of the lakes. In case of war between the two countries on enemy could speedily cover those waters wttij a formidable navy through the Welland Canal, while we would have to build one for each sac? tion of the lakes east and west pf Falls. If we have a Ship Canal connecting the Mississippi Biver with lake Michigan, and lake Ontario with the Hudson Biver onr Gan Boats could pass to any point on then inland waters where they might be needed.* Able Engineers will be prepared to present to the next Congress estimates of th* coat of construction, Ac. If the public mind is sufficiently enllghtqn ed with the importance of this measure It will be Boon accomplished As a commercial measure New England jjfla a deep interest in its adoption. The bread stufifs of the West will pad| ua at a much lower price than possibly oan be at present and our articles of manufiwture will command the markets of the West. The estimated cost of the whole work is abont thirty millions of dollars. Its practical operateon would be to open some eigkt then, sand miles of navigable waters to the Atiqntie Ocean through the Hndson Biver giving oqi. let to more than a million square tpjlef pf fcp tife lands. The lake coast is one third great er than onr whole Atiantio coast. Nearly two thousand Teasels now naTigalQ the several great lakes whose aggregate capa city is over four hundred thousand tons. The annual products already of tliif vfst fer tile region of country, though comparatively new, is immense, as seme statistics from our last census will show, via : of Wheat, Corn and all other grains, more than 900,000,000 of bushels, and the wealth in animals too is very great, they numbering in I860 over seventeen and a half millions. These enormous products are the results of culture of a little trier* than a quarter of a century. The extensive iind numerous mineral productions of the Nertl) West are strongly augmenting tl*<9 pressing necessity for an increased outlet to market. At present the facilities for conveying cere als to an eastern market, great as they are, it if impossible to send forward all the grain, as quantities of it have been kept back for want of means of conveyance for the term or thia* years- When a cheap and sufficient outlet is furnished to the great West, industry will be stimnlated and products greatly increased.— The increasing demand of Europe upon this country for food is a consideration in favor of its constrnctiqn. As a national object the vast results of this enterpriee cannot fully be estimated, ft would form a living and perpetual bond betweeu thq East and the West, insure a unity of interests and a harmony of action which would make the inhabitants of the two extremities one peo ple foreyer. S. W. GOf,D. West-Corn wall, Jnne 29th 1883. The New York Times state* that after the last battle of Chaneellorsville, Gen. Meade’* appointment )o supersede ftep.'lfpoker was urged by ever; corps commander,with,perhaps, one exception. Tie officer ne^t Jn r*nk t* Gen. Hooker (Gen. Couch) was himself desi rona that Gen. Mead* should be his obief. The simplest and best way *f pw*errl»# woolen* through the summer from the destrm - tion of moths, is to wrap them well op, after brushing and beating them, in cotton or linen eloths. The moth can past neither. Twd covers well wrapped around asd secured from the air will be effectual.